When Love Flies our Hearts

After Being French, my book on sensuality, I’m meditating on a book about Love. Needless to say I find it infinitely trickier than the fisrt one. What is Love exactly? Are there two of us having the same vision of it? I have a little fight sometimes with one of my friends about the latitude for « choice » that we have in Love matters, because on my own end I really think that our part of choice in « falling in love » is really tiny.

I tend, in fact, to think that we don’t choose Love but that it chooses us, and lucky mortals that we are when it does! Think of it with me: Meeting the loved one? We know how totally fortuitous it can be. In Being French, I told in a chapter titled « Bad Luck and Serendipity » all the randomly circumstances that it took so that I meet the one going to be my wife, and even the period of time when I was struck by a wicked microbe, played a part in that!

But when the encounter effectively happens. Do you evaluates the pros and cons? Do you wonder about questions like: Would it be good to love this one? I don’t think so. You just suddenly discover this love in your heart and you even understand that it was there before you became actually aware of it. So that’s it. Montaigne our great French essayist was once question about the reason of his legendary friendship for La Boétie (French jurist and poet) and his first anwswer to that in his famous « Essais » was: « If I’m rushed to say why I loved him, I feel that it can’t be expressed ». But later on, form his own hand he wrote this in the margin of his own copy of the book: « Because it was him, because it was me. » You see why I’m bringing this here? In my view, Love works exactly the same. When I come to Love a woman, I know I’ll never come up with a better explaination than this: « Because it was her, because it was me. »

So frome there starts the roller coaster, because, yes, love is one! Bliss, exhilaration, tears of joy, tears of pain, here you are. Many things happen inside you. Sometimes you can hardly name them, and some other times it brings the most beautiful words in your mouth, under your pen, … simply because you want to tell your Love as loud and clear as you can, but often as well, because you just try to understand it for yourself.

We French have a certain reputation in Love matters, but hey, we are not alone. And that why I chose a beautiful Italian song conveying in beautiful words that I translated for you, some deep love’s feeling. It’s a song from the Italian singer Nek and it’s titled: Sei Solo Tu (There’s only you)

Here is what it says:

Nek : It’s Only You

Because you please me in every way From every side or perspective of you Because when you’re not there, it tightens a knot Making me feel out of breath

Because you never apologize But when you embrace me You never weaken And you also know how to make a man die With the innocence of the modesty you don’t have

There’s only you along my days Always going deeper inside me There’s only you And tell me that I’m exactly the same for you.

Because you’re so beautiful that it hurts me But you don’t care of it or maybe you don’t even know And when come the night you want to make love Each and every time as if it was the last one

There’s only you in all of my moves Even more now then ever There’s only you inside me Everything else is invisible

3 réponses à When Love Flies our Hearts

Love is something different for everyone. It is undefinable even though attempts are often made to pigeonhole aspects of it. Of course love can be written about as it has been since writing has been event and retold prior to this in oral renditions, but as each human is a complex individual, I suspect it would be a difficult theme considering each individual would see the aspect of love differently and the need to juggle the difference between love and lust would be complex. For me, I love my lover unconditionally and with a deep caring affection, commitment and passion. It is not something I can define as it has so many levels that is surprised me never experienced this for any other individual, expect or wanted to. Needless to say it was a serendipitous surprise. I am sure if you choose to go ahead and write the book it may be just as interesting and enlightening as your first book Being French.